A Norman Rockwell Christmas Card

We lit the Peace Candle last night during our traditional lighting of the Advent Wreath at our home. It is a tradition that Nate loves, and we love that he loves it. There’s a very real sense of what the season is all about for us as we gather on Sunday nights and remember what we are celebrating. More oft than not, this time of year makes us all nostalgic – remembering special childhood holidays, reminiscing about someone we’ve lost, or the traditions we’ve carried on from our own families. What is interesting to me is that even as we celebrate what we consider the real reason for the season, we have this sense that this time of year we should somehow be very, very happy – that everything associated with this time of year should make us feel giddy and happy and whole.


But we all know the reality. All we have to do is turn the television on to be reminded of the brokenness that comes into our view on a daily basis. We are reminded of war in other countries that has a very real effect on the ones who live in those countries, or the ones who are in the military and separated from their families this month. Joblessness and homelessness are very real right now with all that has happened with our economy. Marriages and families find themselves ripped apart by the lack of finances, stability and hope for the future.

Not all that different from 2,000 years ago. Yeah – there are cars, computers and a world connection we all share that is different. But not the pain. Or the fear. Or the wars. Or the hunger. All of those broken pieces of life still existed then as well. And the Son of Man came in spite of those things, in the midst of those things, so that we might find our stability and hope in a Savior who didn’t come to make us rich or ensure our comfortableness… but came to save us from ourselves, to gives us a peace that comes even when all around is swirling and uncertain.

Easier said than done. I want the Norman Rockwell Christmas. I want the happy, giddy, easy life in the photos on Christmas cards. And when you get our Christmas card, that’s probably what you will see. Don’t get me wrong – we’ve had those great Norman Rockwell moments this past year! Little League championships, vacationing in a beautiful locale, enjoying life with friends and family… but we’ve had the struggles that aren’t in the pictures as well. Self-loathing in the middle of a birthday celebration brought on by the hurtful words of a friend, a parent who has been very ill and we want to figure out how to take care of better… and in years past it has been things like job woes or infertility or incredible loss when a beloved father passed away right before Christmas, or a sense of betrayal by the ones who are supposed to love us the most… our life is not everything on the Christmas card.

So why did we mostly recount the good things in our card? Hmmmm… good question.  This whole reflection might cause us to change it up next year.  But it made me think -  maybe we recount mostly the good because in spite of the hardships, the sadness, the brokenness that surrounds us – we have a sense of the larger reality, the bigger picture, a piece of eternity implanted in our hearts that reminds us – that every good and perfect gift comes from the Father, and that in the middle of the mess, there are moments of pure joy, sweet and tangible touches of God’s grace – reminders of the way that a Savior intervenes in our lives and gives us tastes of eternity… those blessings we recount at the end of a year are what keep us going into the next one. And please, hear me, some struggles are more devastating than others – like the loss of a child, or the end of a marriage – and I don’t pretend to understand that pain at all. But, there are some people in my life who have experienced those exact things in the past few years – and still send a card, recounting the beautiful moments where they tasted eternity, noted a blessing bestowed, held onto a moment when they saw Jesus enter their reality and save them. Those are my favorite cards. The ones where you know the “back-story” and see the notes of grace in their Christmas card that year. They make me cry.

I am not sure what this blog post means to those in my life right now. I started my morning with a heavy heart as one of my best friends and I shared about a very devastating moment they had just encountered. And I was blown away by their response in their time of crisis and need – their sense of PEACE in the middle of it all, the statement that they knew there was more to life than just that moment – and I was touched to my core – reminded that this was evidence of the hope, healing and wholeness that came with the birth of that baby so long ago. Because in spite of the road ahead, I know this friend is holding on to every promise that baby brought with Him, every promise uttered by Him – and through this - I see that like never before, this friend knows the immensity of that Gift given at Christmas. 

John 14:7 – “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”